Experiments in Silk
by AllyAM
Summary: Sherlock comes home from a case to find John dressed in one of his suits. Neither of them are quite sure how to react to this. Johnlock slash, pre-fall


This isn't really so much a fic as it is a RP I did earlier today on Omegle, so if you find it a little difficult to read, that's why. Sooo yeah, this is kind of sort of a fic.

Warnings: Some sex-type-things

I do not own BBC Sherlock, if I did, the homoerotic subtext would be way more than subtext!

* * *

John walked out of the bath with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. Sherlock was away on a case for the night and he wanted to take advantage of his time alone.

As John procceed on his night alone, Sherlock wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and sighed, exhausted. Criminals locked up, case solved, and still some time for tea. He called a cab and gave the driver his address.

Having forgotten how much of his actually went into the detective when he was here, John was already bored. Still undressed, he paced the flat, eventually ending up inside Sherlock's room. He eyed the primly pressed suits in the wardrobe, his mind racing.

Sherlock sighed with relieve once he reached the flat. He couldn't wait to get to bed. Normally, he avoided sleeping whenever he could, finding it quite tedious. It had been a long day and Sherlock decided to just swallow his pride. He decided that he'd collapse into his bed the second he was inside.

Without really thinking, John slowly dressed in one. He groaned when the expensive fabric made contact with his skin. This was so much finer than anything he owned, even the Merina wool jumper Harry had gotten him last Christmas.

Sherlock's eyelids grew heavy as he entered the living room. "John, you up?" he called out. He hung up his coat and headed for his bedroom. "Err... John..?"

His spine stiffened when he heard the detective come in behind him. "Hello, Sherlock."

He froze on the spot as his tired eyes observed his flatmate in his bedroom. "Is... that my suit?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"I...I suppose it is." A deep blush spread across his face, John was glad he was turned away from Sherlock.

Sherlock tried to deduce why in the world whatever was happening before him was happening, but John's turned body and Sherlock''s tired mind made it difficult. "John, I've come to accept that you don't always do things that I'd do myself, and I suspect that you've accepted the same to me... But I don't really understand this at all. I'd appreciate an explanation?"

John didn't know what to say, he'd been caught in compromising situations before but nothing quite like this. He tried to work out a reasonable explanation. All he could do was open and close his mouth, seeming much like a fish.

Approaching John, Sherlock turned the doctor to face him with concern. "Are you having a seizure?"

"N-no." He shifted uncomfortably, his hard-on pressing against the tight suit pants he was wearing. "It was..an...an...experiment." he offered lamely.

Sherlock nodded, satisfied with his answer. Sherlock was one to experiment himself and was actually a little proud that John was now curious about science like him. But John probably could've thought of something a little less... Odd.

"you're experimenting now?"

"Y-yes."

"Have any other experiments in mind?"

He somehow managed to stop an avalanche of obscene thoughts from tumbling out of his mouth, hoping Sherlock didn't notice anything he responded, "None."

"Oh, John, we both know that's not true." Sherlock slowly stepped closer and closer to John until they were only centimeters away. He then took a large breath and reached for John's hand.

John flinched, then let Sherlock take his hand. "Yes it is...it is..."

"Oh well..." Sherlock remained on the spot in front of John. "Id appreciate it if you got out of my suit."

"I'll go change." He tries to move around his flatmate to get to his bedroom.

Sherlock took a second to study John. He /did/ look good in that suit. Sherlock, no matter how unwillingly, let go of John's hand and gestured to let him know that he was free to go.

John stood there for a moment longer than needed, trying hard to hide how disappointed he was that Sherlock let go.

Sherlock, suddenly less sleepy, walked into the kitchen and started a kettle of tea for the two of them. He sat at the table and waited kind of patiently.

John returned to his room, he slowly and reluctantly removed the suit from his body. He sat on his bed in a pair of Sherlock's silk boxers, there was no way he could return those, staring at the limp suit on his bed. All he wanted to do was to find a way to keep it.

The whistle of the kettle blew and Sherlock prepared two cups. Sherlock felt a sense of thankfulness of John's weird actions. It had woken him up and he wasn't a big fan of sleep. Unfortunately, he'd be staying up wondering all of his questions like 'does John often try on Sherlock's clothes?' and 'If he had done so before, how had Sherlock not noticed?' and 'was that normal?'

******You:** Eventually, John folded up the suit as nice as her could. He dressed in his usual clothes, making sure the maroon silk of his 'borrowed' underwear was not peaking out over his jeans. Taking a breath, he walked back downstairs to their sitting room. "Here's your suit."

******Stranger:** Sherlock sorted throw the folded clothes without any apparent interest. "You can keep the underwear," he informed him flatly. "I made

******Stranger:** ((sorry))

******You:** (no problem!)

"I made tea." Sherlock took the suit and headed for his room so he could put it away.

"I-I'm not wearing your underwear!" He exclaims, knowing it is of no use.

"Ah, yes. Sure you aren't" Sherlock said as he took a sip of the hot beverage.

John blushed and took his tea. He sat in his easy chair and shifted around a little. That silk felt damn near orgasmic.

Sherlock sat down in the spot facing John. He observed the man, trying to look for the answers to his questions. "How'd the experiment go?"

"Fine." He glanced around the room, trying to find something else to talk about.

"When did you find an interest in... Experiments?" he questioned to stop himself from asking something else.

"I was...bored."

"John..." Sherlock faced his lap and sighed before turning back to John. "I think its pointless for us to hide anything at this point. We clearly aren't just flatmates."

John blushed again. "I have no idea what you mean." 'Wow,' he thought. Even with an erection, these boxers were felt amazing.

Sherlock looked into John's eyes, with a bit of hurt in his own. "Really, John?" He still found it unbelievable that there was nothing between them. He knew he couldn't ignore it any longer. He didn't want to. Even if The feelings weren't mutual. There was no other way he'd know for sure.

He looked at him with the gaping fish face again. What was he supposed to say? He wanted Sherlock since the moment he saw him? He hasn't slept with a woman since he moved to Baker Street as he can only focus on Sherlock? That just wearing his clothing already felt more erotic than anything he had ever done with a woman? Silently, John panicked, not sure if he hoped that the consulting detective could or could not tell everything John was thinking.

Sherlock shut his eyes. Everything he was experiencing was so new, foreign, and strange to him. He was surrounded by all of these emotions that he couldn't control and confusion that made his head ache. He tapped his fingers nervously and refused to look at John, afraid that he might throw up of nervousness. He was so confused and couldn't handle being so unaware and so out of control. Without even realizing it, his mouth revealed the words "I love you, John"

"I love you, too, Sherlock." the words fled from his mouth before his mind could catch up. He was surprised at how immediate the response was. However, he knew he was right, this was right. John Watson was in love with Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock stiffened in his spot. He didn't mean to tell him, not so suddenly. It was like instinct. It just came naturally. The milliseconds of silence before John's response felt like decades of anguish. But when he heard the little sounds coming out of John's mouth, he couldn't help but laugh a little. He stood up and sat on the arm of John's chair to stroke his fingers through his hair. Anything he could do to touch him.

John melted into Sherlock's touch, it wasn't quite enough for him. He pulled Sherlock into a gentle kiss. He loved him and he wanted him to know, whatever that might entail. This man wasn't a sociopath, just someone who never knew someone who truly cared. John wanted to be that person.

Sherlock felt a shock go through his entire body. He had entered a new state in which he had never experienced before. As he cupped John's face in his hands, he took in the taste and feel of John Watson. He took in this amazing new feeling and never wanted to let it go. He wrapped his arms around the man next to him and held on as if letting go meant losing him forever.

'I love you, I love you, I love you' Sherlock's words ran on repeat in his head. Sherlock didn't open his heart to anyone, how did John get so lucky? He lowered the lithe man onto his lap, his erection no longer something he was concerned about Sherlock noticing.

Sherlock moaned into John's mouth as he ran his hands up and down John's back. He always knew he had needed John, but he never realized he had needed him like this. An empty void in him that he hadn't even known was there began to fill and John's touched warmed him like a fire on a harsh winter day. "John.." he whispered in his ear, once they had separated to take a breath.

"Sherlock?" John purred in response. He was running his gentle hands all over Sherlock, wanting to feel all of him. Being with another man was new for him and Sherlock was so different from all women he had been with. Women were soft, they had curves, Sherlock was all planes and angles.

Sherlock shivered at John's touch. The feeling made his heart skip a beat and his nose crinkle. "I love you," he admitted once more. He pulled John in and hid his face in the man's neck, simply holding him. There was nothing in the world he'd rather have than John in his arms, and now he had it.

"I've always loved you," John said, "I've killed for you, put my life in your hands, your beautiful, amazing hands."

Sherlock kissed John's hair and held him tighter. He finally kissed him once more gently and whispered in his ear. "Have me. Take me"

John felt his jaw go slack, there was nothing more he wanted to do. "R-really, Sherlock? Are you sure?" He didn't know how much would be too much for his...boyfriend? No, that didn't sound quite right, but that conversation can wait.

Sherlock shut his eyes and nodded, saying nothing. He wanted John to do it, and wouldn't trust anyone else with his body or heart.

Kissing Sherlock on his forehead, John picked up Sherlock and carried him to the upstairs bedroom. Gingerly placing the consulting detective on the bed, like this happiness was something so fragile, the army doctor crawled over Sherlock and placed a soft, innocent kiss on his lips.

Sherlock felt so open and vulnerable. Normally thinking of such a thing would make him worried and afraid, but instead he felt comforted, welcome, like he was where he belonged. He didn't want to let it go. He thought about the women who had been on the very bed he layed upon and a sudden fear hit him. "Please, never leave me."

"I could never leave you, Sherlock, you are my life now, you have been my life since the moment I laid eyes on you at Saint Bart's."

"I think I've loved you my entire life. I don't think I'll ever stop."

Sherlock nodded, unsure of what to say for the first time in his life. He imagined that the feelings might have been mutual... But he never thought they could be /this/ mutual.

Tired of waiting, John captured Sherlock's lips in a fierce kiss. He was going to make Sherlock Holmes his and only his. Other people my look, but he belonged to John now. This thought both thrilled and scared him.

Sherlock had heard of the common concern of not being ready for such intimacy. And as he watched John above him, he understood how one could be so scared. He wasn't though. He was so ready, it was ridiculous. He had never felt so ready and had never longed for anything else. As John's lips smacked against his, he lost himself in his love.

Slowly, John undressed his soon to be lover, reveling in the moment.

So innocent and new to such a scenario, Sherlock studied John's every movement and repeated. Worried about not being good enough or messing up, he undressed John as well.

He leaned over Sherlock and reached into his nightstand, taking out lube and a condom. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Are you?" It finally occurred to Sherlock that he hadn't really asked John if he wanted to. He swallowed, feeling nervous. He didn't want John to do anything he didn't want to do.

"Of course I am." John spread Sherlock's legs and re-positioned himself between. He applied the lubricant to two of his fingers and proceeded to slowly slide an index finger into the man writhing below him. "You alright?"

"I'm amazing."

John smiled and pulled him into a kiss.

* * *

AAaaaaannnnd, that's where it ended, as the other person disconnected from me.

Feel free to inbox me if your interested in doing some actual RP fictions (much like was Driffta and Where's My Calabash? do)

Thank you for reading!


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